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5 point method for handling  hecklers

1. Square off your feet. Take one step towards them, and repeat whatever it is they just said. This will ensure that everyone in the crowd is aware of what is going on and it buys you an extra 5 seconds to size them up.

2. Size them up. Look for any birth defects, ethnic impurities, sexual deviations, like homosexuality or in a perfect world, they are the 3rd or 5th wheel at their table). Like Wild Kingdom, or Keeping Up With The Kardashians, a predator must separate and destroy the weak.

3. Destroy the weak. Kill them with kindness. You have already established that there is a douche bag iin the house, now you have to establish that you as the comedian are a good and decent person. This will enable you to push the heckler towards suicide following the performance. Say something nice about the heckler with as little irony and sarcasm as possible. This will throw him/(drunken) her off balance.

4. Pushing the heckler over the edge. Take the spark of pity that you have created from step 3, and douse it with one gallon barrel high octane comedic cruelty. The table has been set and now it’s time for the heckler to eat a basket of deep-fried shit (which will count as part of his two drink minimum). He will want very badly to walk out the door at this point.

5. Kicking him out the door. Don’t stop. You are not only policing this situation but sending a message to any other potential hecklers in the crowd. Pile on and then pile on a little bit more. And then a lot more. It may feel wrong, but let’s face it, but let’s face it, you are telling dick jokes to drunks in a mini-mall, not lecturing on public safety to a middle school.

The crowd has two choices at this point, the Philadelphia Flyers “Nananana.. hey, hey, hey, hey… good-bye” song or feeling sorry for the heckler and turning on you. The latter is preferred (latter means second, by the way). Now you have license to ejaculate all childhood rage in the faces of these ungrateful laid off factory workers, calling themselves a crowd. I once experienced this an hour and 10 minutes into a set in Minneapolis. I informed the crowd that because of their failure, I would be walking all 300 people from the room. For the next 45 minutes, I assaulted them with AIDS jokes, 911 jokes and Viking jokes, while counting the numbers down as people paid their checks and left. When I hit 200, I congratulated the survivors and did 10 classic minutes from the Fitz of Laughter album, available if you email your receipt for my book, Dear Mrs. Fitzsimmons to Alice at

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